


Yes

by mresundance



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, French Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Meme: Sherlock BBC Kissing Meme, Roughness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-17
Updated: 2010-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-13 06:05:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mresundance/pseuds/mresundance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP. John agrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes

**Author's Note:**

> Sex is a bit rough. Written for the [Sherlock BBC Kissing Meme](http://moony.livejournal.com/1616531.html). Original thread is [here.](http://moony.livejournal.com/1616531.html?thread=9450899#t9450899)

The morning is bright and without stars when John leans over and begins covering Sherlock in kisses. The sleeping detective wakes almost instantly but pretends to sleep. John can tell; a smile trembles around the edges of Sherlock’s lips as John kisses his collarbone, fine and sharp as Sherlock’s cheekbones. His elbows and the edges of his ribs are sharp too, like glass or shrapnel. John mouths them each carefully, with respect for their ability to injure.

Sherlock is all titled, jutting angles. The bruise on the inside of John’s thigh from last week hadn’t been entirely accidental. They’d both been nearly shot and after, Sherlock had pressed John into a wall. He’d said: ‘Now,’ waiting just long enough for John to nod. Then kissed him, grabbing hard fistfuls of hair until John saw shimmering dots and he’d ripped John’s trousers open with his pocket knife. Meanwhile, John’s thigh was jabbed, leaving a blue black bruise the shape of Sherlock’s knee.

Sherlock opens his eyes. This morning, they look pale green to John and the pupils are enormous. Like two gaping mouths, they could swallow John whole.

‘Do you want to?’ Sherlock asks. John, kissing a freckle on Sherlock’s jagged hip, pauses. Though Sherlock’s voice is quiet, there is an edge it which makes John ache.

‘Yes,’ John says, stretching up to kiss Sherlock. ‘Yes,’ he says into Sherlock’s lips.

Sherlock kisses back, toothsome and ferocious. The world’s foremost predator – the most efficient – is not the shark. Nor the lion, or the tiger, or the wolf, John thinks as Sherlock savages his mouth until it’s raw and numb. The worlds foremost predator is Sherlock Holmes. Deftly – efficiently – he uses the same knee he bruised John with, flipping John onto his back in the bed. He takes John’s wrists in his ivory hands and pins them over his head.

‘Yes?’ he asks, biting John’s earlobe.

‘Yes,’ John wriggles up against Sherlock. ‘Please yes.’

Sherlock smiles an almost gruesome smile.

John’s knees are up around Sherlock’s ears and he’s inside John and it hurts but John wants it, wants it so badly that that it makes him hurt even more, in a completely different way.

‘No?’ Sherlock nibbles John’s lip as John squirms.

‘Don’t stop,’ John says. ‘Please. Fuck the daylights out of me.’

Sherlock does so, all the while devouring John’s mouth with his own. John can barely breathe; Sherlock’s tongue, hot and slick, pushes in and out in time with Sherlock’s thrusts. They are both sticky with sweat, saliva.

John moans in Sherlock’s mouth as he finishes and Sherlock follows. He slumps on John, loosing his taut grip on his wrists.

They lie panting. John’s heart skitters and the clock on the wall ticks unevenly. He shifts and knows he’s going to be sore. Rubbing his wrists and can see red finger marks burned into his skin.

‘You will fucking kill me some day. You know that right?’

Sherlock, smiling, slithers closer to John and clutches him. Sherlock’s damp curls, like black snakes, prickle his lips and chin.

‘Hmm,’ Sherlock hums.

John sighs and kisses the top of Sherlock’s head.

‘Yes,’ he says.


End file.
